


Meeting the Covert

by Militia



Series: Western Mandalorian [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mention of Past Abuse, Multi, Possible Character Death, Possible Character Injury, Possible Hurt/Comfort, Western AU, past character abuse, possible angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Militia/pseuds/Militia
Summary: The Mandalorian meets a western setting.The mandalorians are bandits searching to improve the lives of the people in the vicinity of the town. Corin's family is responsible for the death and destruction of towns' peoples' property, land, and mandalorian camp sites.How will this confrontation end?
Relationships: Corin the Stormtrooper (Rescue and Regret)/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Series: Western Mandalorian [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1739101
Comments: 86
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Idea made in the discord, Tired_Tatum, Annetagonist, and Miscellaneous Ace (Ao3 and Tumblr profiles respectively) who came up with, and added to the prompt.

Corin was startled awake one night when his mother ran into his room, grabbing him and shaking him to alertness.  
“There’s bandits in the house.”  
Her panicked hiss, bordering on a hysterical edge, drove him to shoving off his blankets, hurriedly grabbing his jacket to throw on over his bare back, and pushing his feet into his boots by the foot of his bed.  
As he hopped, lightly, trying to get done as quickly as possible, his mother ran to the door, peering out into the matching dark.

For the final touch, he blindly swatted at his dresser, until he felt his holster, looping it around his waist as a final defence. 

He joined his mother at the door, gently taking her elbow, wincing at her muffled shriek.

He took a turn looking out. Nothing. No movement, no sounds. Wherever they were, they weren’t on the second storey yet.

Grabbing her wrist, eh gently tugged her along behind him as he stepped out, careful of where he stood. He could barley see, the only light available shining through the window as the moon slid out from behind dark clouds.  
He could only hope it stayed out long enough for them to get to safety.

He wondered where his father was. Why was his mother alone?

Time for questions later.

They crept through the house slowly, toward one of the side stair cases. Corin didn’t want to risk going down the grand and being caught.  
He grimaced, body curling, when it creaked loudly, echoing through the silent hall.

Hissing out a breath, he grit his teeth, and quickly yanked it open to a decent width. He paused, still and tense as a statue, waiting to hear any other noise indicate they’d been heard.  
Nothing.

With a sigh, he guided his mother through, and desperately hoped this wasn’t another one of her hysterias.  
Not that he could blame her if it was.

Inside, it was even darker. He couldn’t see in front of him. So he considered it lucky he knew these hidden walkways like the back of his hand.

Stepping around his mother, hand on her shoulder, he took lead again, going slow so she wouldn’t stumble.  
Not that it mattered in the end.  
They rounded a corner, the last few steps before they’d be on the ground floor, and at the kitchen door. They reached it, Corin’s hand going to the knob, turning it; just in time for it to be yanked open, his jacket to be grabbed, and him to be ripped out of the darkness and thrown onto the floor, sliding along the tile.  
Shoulder hitting the bench, head smacking against the ground, he groaned as he struggled back up onto his four limbs.  
Then he felt the cool metal as a gun was pressed against the back of his head.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched a second pair of legs as they closed in on his mothers, before she was pulled out of view, struggling and kicking all the while.

A grip on the back of his jacket yanked him up onto his knees, gun held tight against the base of his skull.  
With wide eyes, he stared up into the darkened shadow of the bandits face, hidden, even from the moon’s light, by the brim of his hat and the handkerchief wrapped around his head.

Hi stead tilted as he seemed to consider Corin. Then he leaned back, behind Corin and out of his sight as his head was pushed back forward. A firm pull on his jacket had him stumbling awkwardly to his feet, metal digging in to his lower back.

“Gun, off, now.”

With fumbling hands, Corin pulled his gun free of the holster, only to stop, arms raising into the air up to his shoulders, when he felt a bruising push into his tailbone.  
“Slowly.”

Ignoring the slight tremble in his arms, not entirely certain it was caused from the situation occurring, he slowly stretched out his arm, and placed the weapon down on the marble bench beside him, before his hand rose back up.

A hand shoved his shoulder, sending him flying forward a few steps.  
“Move.”

Swallowing, he forced his legs to go. One foot in front of the other, out the doorway and into the corridor. Once there, he could see the warm light from the study as he was slowly directed toward it.  
There was a third bandit, a mountain of a man, with a firm grip on his father’s shoulder, rifle held casually in his other hand.

The second bandit was standing behind his mother, who was now sitting on the armchair by the fire.

Another push from behind, and he was backed into a corner to stand beside her chair.

He stared down the barrel of the gun in his face.  
“Sit, down.”

He slowly folded his legs beneath him, until his head was no higher than his mothers waist.  
He refused to look toward his father. Refused to see the disappointment and disgust he was sure would be there, caused by his in-action. Instead he kept his attention on the bandit in front of him, who was staring at him with eyes so dark, they appeared almost black against the dancing light of the fire reflected there.

A shift drew his attention to the behemoth behind his father.  
Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him.

He pulled something out of his coat. A sheaf of papers, that he threw down on the ground in front of Macero’s feet.  
Corin found himself looking at his father’s face, as he stared, unimpressed, down at the parchment on the ground.

The bandit in front of him spoke, just as Corin felt his face pale, blood dropping form his face, as he read the words on top of the first slip of paper.  
Bank Foreclosure; another win for Macero Valentis.

He suddenly had a very strong idea on why their house had been targeted.

“Seven foreclosure’s in the last two weeks, three houses seized, ten families left in the dust.”  
Another stack of papers hit the ground.  
“Three attacks on native land funded, by an excessive amount of gold, in the last One.”

He turned his back on Corin, but he didn’t think he could bring himself to move and attack him even if he wanted to, too busy staring at the papers in front of him, spilling the proof of his father’s and uncle’s deeds.  
They’d said they’d changed. They’d said it was going to be different here.

They’d lied.

“-until you promise to pay them back, I’m afraid tonight might get severely Unpleasant for you.”  
He tuned back in at the tail-end of the threat, the bandits hand resting against his thigh, finger tapping on the knife sheathed there.

Corin swallowed thickly at the implication, but couldn’t bring himself to blame the situation on the bandits.  
Not when the fault lay so clearly with his own family.

“If you think I’m going to give back a single penny to any of those filthy swine-“  
His father was cut off by the bandit whipping the knife free, and holding it up under his nose.

His mother started sobbing beside him, hiccups barely breaking the tension thickening into a haze through the room.

Macero continued to glare, stubborn and unyielding, into the eyes of a painful future.

Then he spit in it.

Corin let his head thump back against the wall behind him with a grimace.

“Mac,” his mother pleaded, “Mac just pay them. Just pay them back.”

He scowled at her, before his eyes landed on Corin, and something twinkled. Corin felt his stomach drop. He knew that look. Whatever was behind it, wasn’t good.

“I tell you what, I don’t have access to the money right now, but why don’t you take some insurance to make sure I’ll pay.”

Corin blanched, realising where he was going with this, head ducking down to stare at the wooden planks beneath him.

He guessed his father had been given a silent signal to keep talking.

“My son, take him, when I have the money, I’ll pay for him back.”  
He heard the smirk in his voice when he continued, trying to sweeten the deal.  
“I’ve raised him to behave right, he won’t cause you any trouble.”

He wasn’t sure if the bandits believed his father. At least not fully. They seemed uncertain, short gestures and head movements between them playing out like a silent conversation, all three looking between eachother, his father, and him.

Finally, the smaller man, the one that had grabbed him, spoke.

“If he agrees.”

Corin made the mistake of catching his father’s eye, seeing the dangerous glint there. He swallowed thickly, eyes turning down, and nodded his head.

With that, the bandits quickly went to make their leave, the smaller once again coming up to him, but instead of grabbing him by his jacket, this time he offered his arm.  
Wary, he took it, pulled to his feet, and suddenly his face was very close to the hidden one of the unknown man. He found himself looking down into dark brown eyes, the man barely making it to his own height.

Keeping guns trained on his parents, a still smirking Macero watched them walk out the door, Corin barely catching a glimpse when he turned back to glance over his shoulder.

Once they reached outside, they picked up the pace, the walk almost turning into a jog. Corin lost track of time, but was sure at least a decent few minutes had passed before he heard the sound of horses.

None of the three seemed too happy he was there, so he did his best to keep up, and stay quiet.

He could only hope his father was actually planning on paying them back, and not simply killing two birds with one stone.


	2. Chapter 2

Their horses were tied with soft harnesses to a few low trees, saddles off and laid out on dead trees and branches beside them.  
The bandits had certainly been confident they wouldn’t be caught, and had clearly planned to be gone from their horses a while.

Corin frowned at the implication, wondering just how long they might have been in the house before they’d made their presence known. Wondered how long they’d watched and waited for a ripe opportunity to strike.

He sighed at the lack of alarm he could hear behind them.  
If his father had let anyone know about the bandits, a ruckus would have already kicked up, loud enough they’d still be able to hear.  
They hadn’t gone that far away from the town, even if Corin’s house was closer to the outskirts than the centre.

He was pushed down to sit on a creaking log roughly, almost falling off as he stumbled down through the darkness.  
He still remained silent.  
No one else had spoken, and he didn’t want to risk any anger or frustration from the situation being taken out on him. So he simply waited in silence.

They made quick work of gearing up their horses, even in the low light, as another cloud passed over the moon’s light.

Blinking furiously, desperate for his eyes to adjust, he jumped when someone grabbed his arm and dragged him upright.  
Staggering after them, he pulled short just as a horse snorted loudly in his ear.

The cloud fell past the moon, and he saw one of the smaller bandits clamber up the saddle and hold a hand out to him.  
He hesitated, staring at it.  
With a twist of their head, they made a quick jerking motion with their fingers, impatient for him to hurry up.

He grabbed hold, and with relative ease, they swung him up behind them.

He wasn’t too sure which of the two smaller bandits it was. All three wore similar clothing, and in the dim lighting, the only real defining feature he could make out was the size of the big one.

With little else to do except sit quietly as the bandits rode out, he found himself uncertain where to place his hands. Right up until the horse jerked forward, and he flailed a bit, hands reaching forward to grip the hips of the bandit in front of him.

The cool air lifted across him as the horses walked forward at a decent pace. Seems they weren’t in a hurry.

He distantly noted how quiet the horses themselves were. They were well trained.

He lost track of time quickly, lulled into a faint sense of apathy as he swayed in time with the horse.  
The cool breeze across his face was both nice, and chilling as he felt his fingers and toes begin to grow cold. He wasn’t dressed for the cool of night.

He felt his head dip, and he jerked suddenly, trying to catch himself before his head hit the shoulders in front of him.  
He’d dealt with less sleep than this, he mentally scolded himself. He needed to be more aware. He didn’t know what they wanted yet.

His head hit their shoulders. He didn’t realise until several moments had passed, and he awkwardly whipped his head back up, blinking blearily.  
It was a lot darker, the wind having picked up a bit, his body becoming wracked with shivers against the deeper chill.  
He shook his head around, and tried to ignore it.

His head was on their shoulder again.  
He didn’t remember shifting closer, but now his front was curled against the warmth radiating through their clothes as he desperately tried to face away and cut off the cold wind coming from in front of them.  
His body was starting to give small tremors, and all he could hope was that they wouldn’t notice, and would ignore the way he pressed tighter behind them, ducking down to try hide from the wind as much as possible.

His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to open them. At least this way, he could pretend he was dreaming.  
He felt himself sway back into apathy, even against the biting chill whipping its way through his jacket and thin sleeping pants.

His head jerked up when the horse came to a stop.  
With a small frown, he blinked, and with a shake of his head, lifted it up to peer cautiously around him.  
He promptly dropped his gaze when he realised the big guy was looking straight at him, head tilted at a cocky angle.  
The bandit in front of him was still tense as iron.

At least he knew he wasn’t the only one affected by the cold.

Curious, he slowly peeked back up and around the bandits shoulder, to see a striking view over the cliff they were on, showing the desert ahead. He wondered if they were really insane enough to try cross it.

Then he realised there was a small forrest right below them, in front of the desert, along the large, winding river.

He decided to blame it on the tiredness and stress of the last few hours.

The bandits on either side of them startled him as they dropped down of their horses, leading them over to a series of small trees they tied their bridles to.

The bandit in front of him shifted, before half turning to look back at him, and he found himself staring back into brown eyes as the light around them slowly lifted with the coming dawn.  
The bandit cocked na eyebrow at him, and with a flush, he realised they were waiting for Corin to move.

Scrambling to get off as quickly as possible, he stumbled a few steps when he hit the ground.  
The soft sound of boots following, landing in the sand behind him, had him ducking his head, drawing close to himself.  
Then he realised how cold he still was when a particularly harsh breeze cut across him, and he pulled his arms across his chest, tightening the jacket that stood between him and the cold.

The bandit lead the horse toward where the other two seemed to be setting up a small camp, pulling flasks and what might have been some dried meat out of their pouches.

Taking a break by the look of it.

Unsure what to do, Corin hesitantly walked toward where the third one had now joined the others, sitting around on a large, flat piece of rock lifted up out of the sand. They were pressed up against the larger one making a small wall behind it, horses off a few steps tied loosely to the trees nearby.

They must really train their beasts well.

Not wanting to intrude on the space, and also trying desperately to ignore the dryness in his throat and rumble in his stomach, Corin dropped down on the furthest edge of the rock he could, back pressed harshly against the rough surface behind him.  
Tilting his head back, he let his eyes close, as he pulled his knees up to his chest, and hoped with all his might that none o the three would notice how his limbs shook against the bite of the wind that still snuck around the edges of the surface behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

He blinked himself awake with a small head shake, grimacing as the crick in his neck made itself known when he tried to lift his head back up.

He shifted his shoulders around, trying to work out the small knots and cricks he could feel from sleeping sitting up against such a rough surface.

That was how he realised there was something wrapped around his shoulders, restricting his arm movement.  
Confused, he glanced down, staring uncomprehendingly at the rough woolen blanket circling his chest.  
He blinked down at it. Blinked again.

Brows dropping, face twisting into an uncertain frown, he glanced up and around.

Then felt himself start with a small panic when he realised the three bandits were gone. Where were they? They didn’t just leave him here did they? How would he get home? Or get anywhere?   
He felt his breathing shorten as he flailed his way out of the fabric, scrabbling against the rock and pulling himself up to a standing position, head whipping around every which way.  
Bad luck, this was very bad luck.

He strode forward, quick paced. Then almost fell back on his rear when a horse snorted in his face around the edge of the large rock.

Arms windmilling, he stumbled back to regain his balance, barely saving himself from an embarrassing topple.  
Except, the bandits weren’t here, just one of their horses. Corin could tell it was one of theirs, they’d left all their supplies and even one of their hats on the dead and broken logs beside it.

Hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, he looked around, calmer this time. No sign of anyone, no sing of the other two horses.  
Without thinking, he walked up to the beast as he continued to glance around, hand coming up to let it smell him, before he gave its snout some light pats.

“Well,” he stopped, glanced around, “boy,” he continued stroking the horses snout as it huffed at him lazily.  
“Where’d your rider get off to?”  
He coughed, wincing against the dryness in his throat. Might be better to keep the talking minimal today.

He moved to sit down on one of the larger logs beside the horse, before remembering the blanket he’d ungraciously left tossed aside on the ground behind him.  
Feeling flustered, glad no one had been around to witness that particular embarrassment, he went to retrieve it, rolling it up, and placing it beside the rest of the bandits’ belongings.

The sun was a comforting warmth on his face, but Corin knew it likely wouldn’t take long before the heat became scalding.  
He ended up changing where he planned to sit, instead moving to a log that was partially shaded by a small, sparse tree.  
Better than nothing at least.

He hadn’t realised he'd fallen asleep again until a kick to his boot had him scrambling upright.  
A hand on his shoulder pushed him back down.

He grabbed the object being handed to him without thinking, and found himself looking at a heavy canteen, liquid sloshing about inside.  
With a small frown, he tilted his head up at the bandit. He’d try to ask him what he wanted Corin to hold the water for, but he didn’t want to see if his voice would crack or even work enough to get the question out.

“Drink.”  
Then the bandit was gone, heading over to his horse. The one that had been left behind with Corin, and untethering him from the tree he was beside.

Slowly uncapping the canteen, Corin forced himself to drink slowly, taking small sips when all he wanted to do was down the entire thing at the first cool drop to touch his parched, dry tongue.  
He didn’t know how much he was allowed to drink, so he took only a few sips before reluctantly capping the drink and placing it on the ground beside his feet.

The bandit was rifling through pouches, half hidden between sand and rocks, a few steps from his horse.

He found whatever he was looking for, straightening, and walking back over to Corin.

That was when Corin realised the hat from the small pile of belongings was back on his head, and had been since he’d woken Corin up.

He held out a small, fabric wrapped item, flicking it impatiently when Corin hesitated to reach out and grab it.  
He unwrapped it, to find some small pieces of damper, and dried, salted meat.

He felt himself begin to salivate, stomach kicking up a fuss at the reminder of how hungry he was, and how long since he’d been able to eat something.

He wasn’t sure if this was a trick though.  
He glanced back up at the bandit, who was staring at him, face still covered, hat tilted low over his eyes.  
With a sigh Corin could easily pick up from the small distance away he was, the bandit gestured at the food in his hands.  
“You need your strength, eat something.”

He wandered off a few moments after Corin hesitantly began to pick and pull at the pieces of food, slowly chewing it, trying to make it last.  
He wondered if he could save some of the small meal, keep it in his pockets for later in case he wasn’t fed again.

A blink later, and he realised, too late, that he had completely wolfed down every last morsel.  
He could still feel his stomach growl.

He mentally cursed, so much for keeping some to eat later.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up the canteen, and went to give the bandit back his belongings. Only to realise the bandit had disappeared.

Pursing his lips, face pulling into a small frown, he walked forward, looking around the small area.  
Not here.

With a sigh, Corin placed the napkin and canteen down beside his pouches, tucking them in behind the fabric so the water wouldn’t get too heated by the sun. Then he made his way back toward his seat, hoping the minimal shade there would protect him from the mild sting he could already feel the sun giving him.

He forced himself to ignore the dry touch he could still feel in the back fo his throat, and as he settled down as comfortable as he could, he wondered where the other two bandits had gone.


	4. Chapter 4

He refused to let himself drift off for a third time, frustrated and bored with his own inaction.  
He found himself staring at a small lizard that had scuttled up onto a log beside the horse, that was now on the ground, legs tucked beneath him, and basking in the sun.

He had no idea how much time had passed, and there’d been no sign of any of the three bandits returning.  
Corin had absolutely no inkling of how or where the third bandit had disappeared to.

He licked his lips, a particularly harsh gust of wind accentuating the still very present dryness in his throat.  
He found himself staring at the canteen he knew was tucked behind one of the pouches.

Surely, he’d be allowed some more, right?  
He was given the whole thing, maybe he had been supposed to keep it, and keep drinking from it?

He looked around. Still no sign of any of the three bandits.  
Surely it would be okay for him to have some more. Right?

Before he could doubt himself too much, Corin swung himself up off his perch, and immediately regretted it.  
The quick movement, combined with the exhaustion he was feeling from the heat, had him stumbling back, knees hitting the rock, rear landing heavily against the surface once more.

He breathed harshly, blinking the dark spots from his eyes as he sat there for a moment stunned.  
Time to take this more slowly then.

Hesitating with every inch, he dragged himself upright, feet planted against the ground, and leaned his elbows on his knees. Okay, just one more push, slow, and he’ll be on his feet.  
With a grunt, he began the process of rocking forward, and pushing himself up, back straightening, until he was finally upright.  
He stood there a moment, wary of another dizzy spell. When nothing occurred, he took small steps forward to the pouches, lowering himself down into a crouch beside them.

Alright, he was fine, this was good. He could do this.

The canteen was where he’d left it. He pulled it out, and it almost slipped from his fingers as he underestimated the weight still in it.  
He stilled with a grimace, car king open an eye to peer around. Okay, no one around to see that either. Some good luck.

He took the canteen back to his dwindling, patchy shade. By this point it would have likely been the same manner of safety from the sun if he’d sat in the open. It was the principle of the matter.

He lowered back to the ground, and took a smalls ip of the water.

He had to force himself not to gulp it all down, his throat greedy for more the second a drop was swallowed.  
He winced against the dry pain, breathed, and took another small sip. Nice and slow, he didn’t want to rush it, and end up with no water. That would be some bad luck if the bandits didn’t come back soon.

Sip after sip, until he finally felt his throat clear. There was a little less than half left of the flask in his hands, but he still opted to tuck it beneath his bent legs, under his knees. Never knew if he’d need it again soon, and he didn’t feel like getting up and walking over to the horse every time he needed a drink.

Somewhere, he heard a bird shriek. The horse was still kneeled on the ground across from him. The sun was high in the sky.  
He had officially lost track of time.

The water in the flask beneath him was now two thirds gone, and he could feel the heat of the sun piercing into his skin.  
Where were the bandits? Surely they wouldn’t leave their horse out here?

With a small frown, pursing his lip in frustration, Corin pushed himself to his feet.

Striding over to the horse, he knelt down beside it, patting its flank.  
“Hey boy,” his throat no longer hurt to speak. That was a good sign.  
“Where’s your rider?”

With a startle, he fell backwards in the sand when the horse snorted, and stood, shaking the sand from its legs and side as it went.  
Then, it started to walk away.

That was the moment Corin realised it wasn’t tethered.

“Wait,” he scrambled up to his feet, planning for a short, running few steps, before he could catch him and tether him up properly, but instead the horse pranced forward faster, speeding up to a light trot as it rounded the rocks, leaving him behind.

He looked around. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to stay here? Should he catch the horse?  
A neigh caught his attention, and, biting his lip, he took off after the horse.

Around the rock, he saw it looking back, but as soon as it caught sight of him, it was off again, trotting its way merrily through the numerous rocks and shrubbery that littered the ground.

With a groan, Corin followed.

“C’mere boy,” he tried calling after it, tried running up to catch it, but every time, he would be ignored, or it would pick up speed and prance ahead.  
He quickly lost track of how many turns it took him through, as it seemed to slowly start leading him down the cliff they’d been on.  
He really hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble for this.

He clicked his tongue, trying to call the horse again. Once more, he was ignored. With a heavy sigh, he kept after it, desperately trying to ignore the pains he could start to feel in his stomach.  
The small amount of food the bandit had given him hadn’t been enough it seemed.

He scolded himself. Of course it was, they could have let him starve if they were so inclined, he needed to be a bit more grateful.

He rounded a small, rocky wall, that seemed to be made of hardened dirt, to find the horse was gone.  
With no small strike of panic, he whipped around, stumbling this way and that as he tried to determine which way the thing had gone.  
The ground was too hard for him to get decent prints from, and there didn’t seem to be any shrubbery around that could indicate its path.  
Corin had lost him.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back against the rough wall, sliding down until he hit the ground.

Great. With any luck, it’d gone back to the bandits, and he was either lost out here, or was going to be found and punished for taking off.

His stomach growled painfully against his legs, and he glared down at it.  
“Oh shut up,” he grumbled, squinting up at the sun still shining down at him.

His head thumped lightly back against the rough dirt, and he felt some trickle down onto his hair.  
With another scowl, he brushed it out roughly, and tried to think about his options.

Twisting around to look back up the cliff face, he guessed he could always try to climb back up and find where he’d been stationed. The pouches should all still be up there.

Before he had time to think further, a coarse fabric was thrown over his head.  
With a startled yelp, he struggled against the hands that grabbed his shoulders, yanking him up.

He heard a grunt as he threw an elbow out, hitting something soft, but before he could pull the scratchy material from his face, two strong hands pulled his arms behind him, pinning them to his back and rendering him fairly useless.  
His head whipped around as he was dragged helplessly forward.

The only indication of change, was the darkness that shrouded his vision when the sun became blocked, and the lack of wind against his skin when he was pulled along into…. Somewhere.

He really should have just stayed back and let the stupid horse run off.


	5. Chapter 5

Corin found himself squinting, eyes almost entirely shut, when the bag is yanked off his head, and he goes from almost pitch dark, to staring straight into an open flame.  
Blinking, blinded by the transition, his gaze swept over the room, face screwed up against the blurriness his vision presented.

Ever so slowly, he saw the image sharpen in clarity, until he was able to understand what was happening.  
With his face still set in a frown, he stared at the bandits in front of him. The three, plus one more.  
The ones he’d come with still had their hats on, still fully clothed and dusty, whereas the new one seemed to have an iron smith’s clothes on, still with a cloth wrapped tightly around her face, blocking everything from below their eyes.

“So,” she started, and Corin startled at the power her calm voice radiated, “you’re the one who got passed off on us.”  
It wasn’t a question, and Corin fought the urge to bow his head, ears burning with shame.

She tilted her head, stepping in front of the light, and casting herself darkly as a shadowy silhouette against it.  
Corin swallowed, and continued to force himself to meet her gaze, even difficult as it was with the play of the light and shadow across her now darkened face.

She took another step forward until she was standing less than two short steps from him.

Even looking down at her, Corin felt any possible odds were immensely stacked in her favour between them.  
She hummed mildly, head tilting side to side as she seemed to size him up.

He felt like he could finally breathe again when she stepped away, turning to face one of the others. He ignored the weakness he could feel in his knees.

“Find him some new clothes would you, we can’t have him running around in his sleep wear for an indeterminate amount of time.”

At her words, one of the two shorter, the one Corin hadn’t rode behind, nodded and walked out of the small room they were in.  
There was no door, just an opening into the corridor beyond.  
Looking around, he realised that the entire place had been dug out of the rocks, like a mine, but….. comfier?

He snapped to attention when the light across his face fell away, as the female bandit walked up to the lantern, and the other two bandits still in the room.

He blinked roughly against the stark light as it fell across his face, creating dark shadows in his vision, every time she shifted out of its way.  
To save himself, he ducked his head and looked at the ground. Dirt and sand. So this place definitely seemed to have been dug out of…. Corin guessed it was the cliff face he’d been on earlier.

He was brought out of his musings when the third bandit entered the room again, this time armed with clothes, and walked right up to him.  
“Here,” she dumped them into his arms, and Corin startled once more at realising they were also female, “these should fit.”

With that, all four exited, leaving the flickering light, and a confused Corin behind, until his bandit turned back to him, pausing in the doorway.  
“You can put those on, we’ll be right out here when you’re done.”

With that, he joined the others, and Corin was left alone, clutching at a small pile of musty, but also soft-feeling clothes.

He stared at the opening for a few more moments, before snapping back to reality. Clothes, right, he needed to get dressed.

He hurriedly pulls doff his jacket, shedding his pants. He didn’t want to take too long. Didn’t want to risk upsetting anyone when they’d already shown him more hospitality than he’d expected, as the ransomed son of someone they considered an enemy.

He donned the breeches and shirt, admiring how nice the well worn fabric felt against his skin. Somehow, these second hand clothes fit better, and felt nicer, than anything he’d ever been given to wear back at home.  
He stared down at the socks his hands. Soft, thick socks.  
Down at his feet, and back at the socks.  
They’d given him socks.

Shaking his head, he pushed his boots off, and, hopping around awkwardly, managed to pull on the socks and replace his shoes without too much extra stress.

He pulled his jacket back on, shaking off the sand it had accumulated after he’d dropped it on the floor, and picked up the pants he’d pulled off.  
He fiddled with them awkwardly, unsure what to do. Surely they didn’t expect him to leave them here for them to clean up, that’s just be rude.

Uncertain, but unwilling to be so ungracious, Corin kept them in his grip, and stepped out of the space, into the darkened corridor beyond.

He heard a cough, something that sounded like a jumbled mess of vowels, and turned just in time to see the big bandit slap a harsh hand onto the back of his bandit, who’d apparently had a coughing fit.  
After he was done, the man turned and seemed to glare daggers at the woman who’s brought him his clothes.

Corin shrugged. Clearly he’d missed something, and after another moment’s hesitation, approached the trio. The other woman was nowhere to be seen, clearly having gone off to do her own thing.  
“I,” he hesitated, again. Was this something they’d really care about? Oh well, he’d already started speaking, and if he stopped now that all three were focuses don him, he’d feel even more embarrassed.  
He lifted the cloth in his hands up a fraction.  
“Wasn’t sure what to do with these now.”  
He flushed at the raised tone he finished with. Surely he could have said that with a bit more confidence.

The lady considered him a moment, before stepping forward and grabbing the clothes form his hands.  
Eyes widening a fraction, Corin opened his mouth to protest. It was his mess, surely they’d expect him to clean it up; but she was already turning away, muttering quietly to herself as she turned the fabric over in her hands.

She went to walk away, throwing a quick, “I’ll take care of it,” over her shoulder as she left.

He found himself settling into an awkward silence, hands dropping to fiddle with the bottom of his jacket, as the two men seemed to stare at him.

Finally the big one moved, and Corin jumped slightly when he clapped his hands together.

“Well, I should get going. Din here can see you to your room.”

With that, he was gone, down the same corridor the woman had also disappeared down.

Corin swallowed against the silence that fell between him and the only bandit left. Din? Was that his name? What did he mean by room?  
He wasn’t entirely sure what he was allowed to ask, so he kept his mouth shut, rather than say any of the hundred questions he could feel bubbling below the surface.

Finally the bandit sighed.  
“Come on.”  
He started walking, down the same hallway, and Corin followed quickly on his heels.

Rather than continue down though, he veered off down another corridor, that Corin hadn’t been Abel toes from where they’d been standing. He soon lost complete track of how many twists and turns they took before he stumbled to a stop, almost walking right into the bandit when he suddenly came to a halt while Corin was busy staring at the impressive work that had gone into the multitude of tunnels and rooms.

With a cough into his hand, the bandit gestured toward a smaller doorway.

“This’ll be your room for now, someone’ll be along to grab you soon for dinner.”

He hung back, just long enough for Corin to enter the room, eyes adjusting to the incredibly low light of the singular lantern inside.  
When he turned around to thank him, he was gone. A peek out the doorway let him know that he had indeed, vanished.

One sigh later, and Corin turned back in, heading to the small cot he could see in the corner beside the light, and plunked down heavily on it.

Well, things could definitely be a whole lot worse.


	6. Chapter 6

He didn’t realise he’d fallen asleep again, until he was blinking confusedly into darkness.

He felt the strain as he tilted his head up from the bed, and blinked again, forcing his eyes wide. Not a trick o the light then, it was dark.  
Or he’d gone blind.

Considering he felt fine, and every now and then felt like he could see the smallest shade difference in objects around the room, he decided against panicking, and instead felt it was safe to assume the lantern had burned out.

With a wince, he went to sit, and found he was hurting in places he usually didn’t. Right, on a horse for hours, and lying down on rocks definitely hadn’t been the best idea he’d ever had.  
He rolled over, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed until his feet hit the floor, and pushed himself up, holding himself with both hands firmly planted on the thin mattress under him as he stilled against the wave of dizziness that threatened to disorientate him.

With a sigh, he slowly pushed himself to his feet once the wave passed.

Then he was presented with his next problem. Navigating the darkness, preferably without falling, hurting or making a fool of himself again.  
The bandit had said someone would come along to grab him for dinner anyway. Maybe he was supposed to stay in here until then?

Without the light though, Corin could feel himself getting tense, unable to make out more than obscure lighting differences, without any kind of star or moonlight to help, or a breeze through an open window letting him know he wasn’t trapped.

He could feel the panic bubbling in his chest, as he clenched his hands, trying to force himself to breathe.  
Another dizzy spell, a sharp piercing through his stomach.  
Was he supposed to stay in here?  
What if they forgot about him?

What if they just left him in here alone?

Forcing out the breath his chest was holding in a painful gasp, he made his decision. He might be punished for it, but he had to get somewhere, anywhere, with light. Anything that would give him sight, and let him pull himself together.

He stumbled forward, tension making his joints freeze and difficult to manoeuvre. He grit his teeth against the discomfort, and shakiness, and pushed forward another step.

Just go slow. Go slow, don’t stumble, and find your way to another light.

The dark pressed in on him, and he flinched against imagined laughter, and a door slam.

No, he wasn’t trapped in here. There was no door. Just an opening. He could walk out into the corridor. He wasn’t trapped.

One trembling hand reached forward, groping blinding as he continued to walk forward, step by shaking step.

It was so dark. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t feel anything. No breeze, no warmth, nothing except the clothes on his back and the shoes on his feet.

Another step forward, and his fingers seemed to jam painfully against the rocky wall in front of him.  
Wasn’t he going toward the door? How far had he gone? Which direction?

He forced a deep breath, closing his eyes, fingers curling into a tighter fist, knuckles scraping lightly against the rough surface.  
Another deep breath.

He was at the wall now, he could just use that to find the doorway.  
Keeping on hand in contact with it, he slowly inched his way to his right. Going, and going, eyes still not adjusting enough to make sense of the darkness in front of him.

He turned a corner. He went, and his knees hit the cot.

He breathed through the flash of frustration he felt. He was fine, it just meant he needed to go the other way.  
He turned, putting his other hand on the wall, and walked forward, past the corner, and forward again.  
Slowly, slowly.

His hand slipped into open air, and he felt like he could breathe when it passed through an open exit.  
No door, nothing stopping him. He was fine.

Which way to go from here?

He took a small step out, turning in both directions, eyes squinting as he strained them against the dark.  
He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like it might be a touch lighter to his left.

Before he could second guess himself, he was off, hand still brushing, in constant contact, against the wall.

He stumbled a few times, when it slipped against open air as the wall opened up into a new doorway.  
Each time, he breathed through the flash of panic that grippe this chest, and took a few careful steps forward, until his hand brushed another piece of wall.

Finally, after what felt like ages, but may have only been minutes, he realised he was slowly able to see, more and more, with doorways and corners becoming sharper and more clear.

It was getting brighter.

He felt a weakness to his knees as heat pricked behind his eyes. Corin shook his head roughly, no time for that, time to keep moving forward.  
Around another corner, he was suddenly hit with a bright light, right in front of his eyes, from the small lantern hung on the wall a few steps ahead.

Staggering against the opposite, he collapsed, legs folding beneath him, and he hit the ground, eyes staring distantly, unfocussed, at the beacon in front of him.  
His eyes closed as he allowed his head to thump light against the wall behind him, his fingers curling against the soft dirt beneath him.

With a deep sigh, he opened his eyes, beyond grateful that the lantern still seemed to be almost entirely full. It’d keep burning for a while.

He shifted his weight around, one leg laying out, while he brought one knee up for an arm to drop its heavy weight on.

He might be punished for this, but he was not going back to the darkness. Not when a small stroke of luck had finally led him to this lantern, and not gotten him lost somewhere in the winding tunnels.  
He just really hoped he wasn’t making the bandit’s lives more difficult than they needed to be.


	7. Chapter 7

There were a few insects buzzing around the light, had been for a while now.

Corin shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position.

It was getting harder for him to ignore the grumbling of his stomach. Maybe he should go find someone, see if they’d be willing to spare a bit of food if he maybe ate now instead of later at dinner?  
Twisting his lips, considering his options, he wondered if maybe staying put was the best idea. Bad enough he’d already left his room. They might not like it if he wandered around even more.

A particularly harsh twist in his gut had him grimacing. On second thoughts, might just have to risk it. They hadn’t been aggressive to him thus far, maybe a long as he was polite about it, it’d be okay?

With a heavy sigh, working his jaw around, he stood up.

Looking back the way he’d came, he felt a shudder. Yeah, not going back that way.

He turned further into the lit up corridor, and started walking. He lost track of where he was, very quickly.  
The twists and turns all seemed to looks the same, the tiny differences to small to really stick out in his brain. If he had enough time, maybe, but as of right now, he was utterly and hopelessly lost.

He sighed when he rounded into another dead end.

These had to be regularly used paths, the amount of kicked up dirt and sand, and the differing levels of oil the lanterns had all spoke of at least semi regular maintenance, but so far Corin had been unfortunate enough to not come across a single other person.

Huffing with frustration, he tried to remember where the last turn he’d take had been, but the numerous other corridors and rooms confuse him, so he just resigned himself to picking a random one, and possibly traversing these tunnels for hours until he either found someone, someone found him, or he died.  
He cursed his luck. He really should have just kept with the smarter decision of staying put at the light, or better yet, he should have just stayed in his room until he pulled himself together or someone came and got him.

His father would be disgusted by Corin’s weakness.

He found himself frowning at the floor as he slowly tried to untangle all the turns he’d taken in the last…… however long he’d been moving for.  
Maybe, if he could do that, he could find his way back to his room.

He was so lost in concentration, he didn’t notice when he rounded a corner in front of someone, right up until he walked head first into their chest.

Bouncing right off, he flailed a bit as he tumbled backwards, landing heavily and kicking up dirt.  
Coughing and trying in vain to wave it away, he squinted up at the hulk in front of him, right into the unimpressed eyes of the behemoth man that had been one of the bandits to bring him here.  
Uh oh.

Before he got a chance to say something, he felt something tickle. He barely had a chance to curse his luck, before he started sneezing at all the dust still settling in the air around him.  
Scrambling up, he scrubbed at his nose with his arm, barely managing to halt the next sneeze before it erupted.

The big guy still hadn’t said anything, still staring at him, one brow cocked.

Corin stopped himself from ducking his head, feeling like that might be a bad idea, and instead a hand went to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck as he stammered out an apology.  
Even he wasn’t entirely sure he could make sense of the jumbled mess that came out, so he forced his jaw shut with a click and a wince as he waited for the man to say something in response.

Instead, he simply turned on his heel, and started walking away from Corin.

Startled, he stared after, wide eyed. Was he supposed to follow?  
Glancing back, head whipping in two different directions, he scrambled after him, hoping it was what he was supposed to do.

Falling into step behind the bigger man, Corin had to stretch his legs to match the set pace.  
His hands fiddled with the edges of his jacket, before a mental admonishment had him stroking his hands down the front once to smooth it, hands dropping to his sides. That kind of acting showed weakness, uncertainty. No room for that here.

His mind quickly grew bored as they walked in silence. Glancing around, even when he thought he could see movement out of the corner of his eye, there was no sign of life as they made their way through the tunnels.  
Corin wasn’t sure if it was wishful thinking or a trick of the mind, but it seemed to be getting even lighter the further they walked.  
He definitely thought they might be walking uphill, finding himself leaning forward slightly for balance, and struggling against his own exertion.

He thought he was a bit more fit than this.

All he could think was how his father would be disappointed in his abilities, and already be stating the next training regime Corin would be out under to ensure he was up to his best physical standard.  
No time for laziness.

He almost walked into the man’s back, so into his own head as he was.

Hoping the heat across his face wasn’t as obvious as he thought it probably was, he peeked out from behind his mass cautiously, curious as to the tinking and hammering he could hear.

A blast of heat swept over his face as it became exposed to a roaring fire, in front of which, the woman from earlier stood, hammering a small sheet of metal into submission.

A shift, then the mass in front left, espousing him even further, as the bandit went to kneel on a soft looking rug a few steps in front.  
Corin hesitated, unsure if he should follow or not. Fingers twisting against each other, he watched curiously as the woman slowly shaped the piece.

He wasn’t even aware when he stepped forward, head tilting as he watched her work, until he felt a hand smack into his knee, causing him to stumble as it buckled beneath him.

Another flush spread over his face as he realised he’d been about to step past the bigger bandit kneeled, now beside him.  
Not wanting to offend anyone, he ruffled back half a step, and knelt down himself, so the bandit was little further forward than he was.

There, he sat, staring at his hands as he fiddled with his jacket once more, waiting for the woman to finish.

Finally, the hammering stopped, and a hissing began as she dumped the hot metal in a large tub of water. Placing the tools down on a bench beside it, she made her way toward them, kneeling on a rug placed opposite, until they were facing each other.

Swallowing, Corin glanced between the two, waiting to see who would start talking.

His fidgeting only worsened when no one spoke, and he found himself struggling to meet her gaze as she levelled her eyes firmly on him.

“So,” he almost jumped, not expecting her to begin after such a lengthened silence.  
“You were wandering.”

He frowned, biting his lip, unsure if he should speak. He hadn’t meant to be, he just…  
He realised anything he had to say was probably worthless, so just dipped his head in acknowledgement.

She hummed mildly, head swaying as she regarded him.

“Why.”  
It wasn’t phrased as a question, voice too powerful, too strong. Corin still forced himself to think of a response. One without excuses, they didn’t need to hear him stammer on about nightmares and inconsequential panic.

He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Nothing that wouldn’t immediately make him seem suspicious though. With a grimace he suddenly realised just how his actions had probably looked.  
The son of an enemy, walking around their home, unsupervised.  
He definitely should have just pushed through, and stayed in his room.

With a jolt, he realised they were both still waiting for an answer, staring at him.

“I, I just- um…” he wasn’t sure what to say. Wasn’t sure what he could say.

Don’t show weakness. That’s what his father had always taught him.

What if that weakness was the only thing stopping him from being thrown in some cell, chained to a wall. Or worse yet, shot, to protect themselves.  
He took deep breath, and forced himself to ignore his father’s words, echoing through his head.

“I, I needed to find some light.”

No response. He met her eyes, but instead of seeing a frown or glare that could indicate disgust, he found only calm.  
It settled something inside him.

“I, wasn’t- I couldn’t stay in the dark, so I-“ he pause, unsure if they really care. If he’d said enough.  
She nodded her head, so he continued.  
“I swear I wasn’t, doing anything, or trying to-“ what? What could he have possibly been trying to do?

“And that’s why you were wandering.”

Not wanting her to get any misconceptions, or not have the whole story, Corin blurted out, before he could stop himself,  
“Iwastryingtofindsomeonetoaskforsomefood.”

Heat swept across his face once more, burning his ears, when they both turned their full attention onto him.  
“You were trying to-“ she prompted.  
Swallowing, Corin forced himself to breathed and slow down.

“F-find someone to ask, for some food.”

She hummed once more, before rising smoothly to her feet, turning her back on them.  
“Well, I won’t keep you waiting.”  
With that dismissal, the bandit beside him rose, and stepped away.

Corin froze, unsure of what to do, but a cleared throat behind him had him scrambling to his feet after the man, waiting at the doorway for him.

“Come on,” he rumbled down at him, “I’ll take you to grab some.”

It was going to be that easy?  
With a small frown, and a glance back through the door as a silhouette started hammering down in front fo the fire once more, Corin followed after the behemoth. He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he’d be damned before he made a fuss about good luck befalling him.


	8. Chapter 8

Walking with the bandit, Corin was suddenly surrounded by movement. It was subtle, not always noticeable, but there all the same.  
There were people inside rooms, walking across the corridor they were in, down other tunnels.  
Voices were low murmurs, but occasionally he’d hear one raised, shouts, or laughter.

It was still a lot more silent, compared to the town. There, this amount fo noise would have been a group of ten maximum in a room, but here, compared to the quiet of before, it seemed so full of life.  
He noticed that, as often, if not more, than they spoke with their words, they also seemed to hold almost full conversations with body language and hand movements.

He almost got left behind, peering curiously into another hall where three people were holding an almost entirely silent conversation, only for a hand to grab the back of his jacket and yank him along with a yelp.

Dragged a few steps until he was sure Corin was following, the big man turned back fully forward. Corin marvelled at his bulk and size. He was like a giant!

As he began to glance around again, this time mindful to stay on track behind the bandit, he wondered if there’d been just as many people, when he’d been lost and confused, and he just hadn’t noticed, or if he really had been on the outskirts of this small community.

He almost leapt back straight off his feet, skidding to a small stop against the smooth sand when a small shape barrelled straight in front of his legs, falling into the dirt.  
Right when he was about to side step, not wanting to risk touching in case it got him in trouble, the shape moved, under a small mound of clothes, and a child’s face peered up at him, eyes huge against the grime on their face.  
Without any further warning, their face split into a toothy grin and they dove forward to cling onto his legs with shrieking laughter.

Stumbling against the unexpected weight, Corin looked around wildly, wondering what on Mandalore he was supposed to do about the situation.

Up ahead, the big bandit seemed to bark out a laugh when he turned and saw the situation, head shaking fondly.  
“Ad’ika, what has your father said-“  
“Ad’ika!”

A second shout, from the same direction the child had come, and Corin turned to see his bandit coming to a slippery stop, feet sliding as the sand rolled beneath him.  
He panted, glaring down at the kid, face still hidden by a scarf, even as his eyes and drawn brows were exposed by a lack of a hat.  
He had very pretty eyes. Corin quickly pushed that thought away, not to deal with later.

A small, half growl, half exasperated sigh tore out of the man as he stalked forward, eyes determinedly on the grinning child still gripping onto Corin’s leg.  
He was extremely uncertain on what he should do, thinking his help would be unwanted, but sure the man would prefer the child away from a possible enemy.  
His fingers flexed, hands still hung in midair at his sides.

That was when the child squealed again, and jumped, grabbing onto the bottom of Corin’s jacket, and beginning to scale him like a tree.

A new kind of panic emerged when the kid yelped, and slipped. Without thinking, Corin’s hands shot down, hoisting the kid back up to sit on his hip.  
He froze, suddenly realising what he’d done. Eyes wide, he shot a look at the bandit in front of him, mouth opening and closing, no idea what he should do next, but not wanting to get in trouble.  
Only to find, instead of an angry glare, the man was rubbing at his temples with a sigh.

“Ad’ika,” he groaned, answered only by the child giggling, and reaching up to slap harshly against Corin’s face.  
Blinking against the onslaught, Corin tried to tilt his head away, which only resulted in the kid bouncing up in his arms to get a tight grip on his hair.  
Wincing at the sharp pain that erupted when the hairs were yanked down, neck almost cracking from the speed his head was pulled down at, Corin just smiled through a grimace at the kid as they babbled excitedly, with nonsense words.  
Though, Corin supposed he wouldn’t be surprised if they were only nonsense to him, judging by the snort off to the side after the kid cooed something right in his face.

Likely a different language then.

“Uh,” a hesitant start in front of him caught his attention. He looked up as much as he could with the child still yanking his head down toward his chest.  
“Sorry about him,” the man said, gesturing toward his son.  
“He gets a little, excited, sometimes,”

With a grin, Corin went to answer, tell him it was alright, but was interrupted when he hissed in pain at a particularly harsh pull.

Small sounds off to his side let him assume the big guy was probably enjoying seeing him be taken out by a toddler.

“Okay.”  
The man stepped forward, arms raising until his hands covered his sons, and he gently did his best to untangle the kids’ fingers from Corin’s hair. Once free, Corin quickly lifted his head up to keep the kid from getting another grip, and leaving him free to hand over the pouting child to his father.  
With a cough, he wiped the small smile off his face, stepping away, hand raising to scratch at the back of his head.  
Just because a kid didn’t mind him didn’t mean the bandit wanted him in his personal space.

Clearing his throat a bit, Corin mumbled out a quick apology, trying in vain to ignore the tingling he felt form where he’d come into contact with the kid, and man while trying to hand the kid over.  
He decided to mull over it later, besides it wasn’t the first time it’d happened. He remembered the same thing occurring when his mother had given him a haircut, or any kind of contact he’d made with the bandit’s since they’d broken into his fathers’ house.

He hoped it wasn’t because he was getting sick.

With a sigh, the man shook his head a bit, eyes turning a touch stern when they looked back down at the kid now giggling up at him in his arms.  
“We’d better get the womp rat some food before he gets up to anymore mischief-”  
“You can take him with you.”  
A shove to his shoulder as the bigger bandit pushed him right back into the space of the smaller.

“I forgot, Raga needed me for something, I’m sure you won’t mind helping out our new stray here, right?”

Before the man could even get a word in edge-wise, the behemoth was gone, back down the corridor, before turning a corner and making a quick escape.  
Corin wondered why he’d offered to bring him to food if he’d been needed.

A sigh from in front, where his bandit’s eyes were raised at the ceiling, in a long-suffering way, before his head looped back down to look at Corin.  
“Come on,” and he was off, kid peering over his shoulder back at Corin as he went. 

Corin couldn’t help but smile at the innocent little face, with too big ears fanning out either side of his head.  
He really was a cute kid.


	9. Chapter 9

Corin had thought that they would give him food, and maybe take him back to his room to eat or something, away from everyone else.  
Instead, the two of them, plus the kid, lined up behind a few others for food, and after they’d been given a bowl of broth from the incredibly massive pot it had been cooked in, the bandit lead him further into the room, to a far corner where someone else was already sitting.

As they got closer, the kid perked up, squealing in delight, and struggling against his father’s grip, almost causing him to lose the precarious hold he has on both of their meals.

Corin darted forward quickly to pull them free before they fell, and immediately froze, hands full of three bowls, wondering if that was allowed.  
The bandits silence as he stared at him, dark eyes piercing, wasn’t helping the anxiety.

As quickly as he stilled to look at Corin, he was focussed back on his kid, resuming walking toward the stranger ahead.  
As they got closer, Corin realised it was a woman, knives and guns lined out on the table in front of her, cleaning them to perfection.

She glanced up as they got closer, and Corin found himself captivated by the small shape on her cheek. Not natural, it looked like a small tattoo.  
As she greeted the bandit with a grin, arm raising in a mock salute, he realised it wasn’t the only one, her arm wrapped with a band of lines around her bicep.  
He wondered if she’d gotten them done in a shop, or if someone here knew how to ink.

Then her eyes were on him, and Corin was left wondering how exactly everyone in this place seemed to all have the unique quality of projecting an aura of danger without holding a weapon to his face.  
With a smirk, her eyes swept over him, flicking to the three bowls in his grip.

As quickly as the aura was there, it was gone, and he felt like he could breathe again, as she tapped the small knife in her hands against the table, gesturing for them to sit.

His bandit sighed heavily.  
“Weapons off the table.”  
Another smirk, and she dragged them off to dump on top of the bench she was seated on, in a small pile out of sight under the table.

With the danger out of the way, the man placed his kid down on the bench opposite her, only for them to make their best attempt of crawling and wiggling their way up onto the rough planks of the table.  
Smirk softening into a small smile, the woman leaned across the table, tilting the kid’s face up by the chin.

“You’re a bit dirty,” she murmured wiping uselessly at the grime covering his skin.  
A toothy grin was her only response, as she slowly pushed them back down onto the bench, and off the table.  
Corin startled slightly when the bandit went to take two bowls from him. With a cough, heat spreading over his face once more, he awkwardly tried to hand the two bowls off, and ended up with the man very close inside his personal space.  
It also gave Corin the chance to realise that the dark hair didn’t seem to be unkept from being under his hat, but naturally curly and wavy instead.  
He ducked his eyes before he could stare, focussing instead on the bowl still in his hands as the man went to sit, placing one bowl in front of his son, the other in front of himself.

“So,” the woman started, looking back up at him, mouth quirking up, “What’s your story?”  
“Cara..” The man growled lowly, glaring at her, even as he tried to wrangle his son into actually eating the food, not shoving his hands straight into it for a round of finger painting.

With a mild shrug, she took the bowl as he pushed his over to her. Wait, Corin’s head flipped between the two. Did he not get that for him?

Apparently not, as she took it easily, raising it up to drink the broth.

Corin cautiously sat down beside the bandit, leaving as much space between them as he could without seeming rude, wanting to intrude on his space as little as possible.

The kid was finally eating his food, slurping loudly as he messily raised and half spilled the broth on him as much as drank it.  
Rather than admonish his son, or show any sign of annoyance, the bandit sighed, and when his son let the bowl clatter loudly against the table, releasing his grip with a wide grin a giggle, started wiping at his small face gently with a cloth.  
Corin wasn’t entirely sure where he’d managed to pull it from, seemingly thin air, but guessing most likely one of the many folds and pockets in his clothing.

“So,” his attention was drawn back to the woman, Cara, across from him as he took his own cautious sip of broth.  
“You gotta name or something?”

He barely hesitated, not seeing a need to pretend otherwise.  
“Corin.”  
He wasn’t sure how kindly she’d take to his last name though, resolving to tell her only if she asked, well aware his family was widely disliked and even hated through the town and land.

She hummed, head tilting as her eyes raked over him.  
“Those your clothes?”

Now Corin could feel his face shifting into a small frown, unsure what to make fo the question. “N-no?”  
He worried she might think he was a thief.  
“But I didn’t steal them, they were given to me.”

She lifted a placating hand, reassuring that wasn’t what she meant.

“Just curious.”

Corin wasn’t sure what to make of the small shift her eyes made between him and the bandit.  
Self conscious, he raised a hand to stroke at the soft material of the shirt, through the gap in the front of his open jacket.

Beside him, the man sighed again, attention apparently not as completely on his son as it appeared.  
“Ignore her, she’s just looking for a reaction.”

A huff of laughter, and she raised her hands mockingly, grinning back at Corin with a wink.  
“Got to keep life interesting somehow.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction exactly she’d been hoping for. Had she been hoping he’d panic?  
No answer was forthcoming as instead she changed the subject, switching over to a language he didn’t recognise, sparring quick words with the bandit next to him, and sparing him from either of their attention.

Just not the kids’, which a little coo alerted him too, moments before he glanced down and saw a small blur as they fell heavily into his lap.

With another high pitched giggle, the settled themselves down on his knees, a tight grip on his shirt, smiling up at him with wide eyes and messy hands.  
With a soft smile on his face, Corin felt it twist into a wry grin as he stared down at the mess the kid was holding onto him with, and gently took a hold of his hands, wiping them as best as he could with the shirt. It was already dirty may as well use it to finish cleaning the mess.

He realised quickly that the conversation beside him had stopped. Freezing in place, his head turned as he stared wide eyed between the two, one grinning wildly at him, an odd edge to her expression, the other hidden behind a cloth, with soft eyes as he looked at his son.  
With a cough, Corin glanced back down at the kid, just as their fierce grip swapped from his shirt to his hands, turning his pliant hands over in their tiny grasp as they babbled a bit, apparently curious to all the little marks the kid could see on his skin.  
He looked back at the bandit, apology in his expression, just as a loud ruckus drew his attention away, and back toward the entrance of the mess hall.

Beside him, the bandit gave another bone deep sigh, also turning in his seat, as Cara snorted behind him, all watching a small group hollering loudly, enter the room.

Beside him, the bandit stood up.  
“Come on, we should get moving.”  
Corin lifted the kid up, expecting him to take the kid and go, unsure what exactly he was supposed to do, only for the bandit to gesture for him to follow, his child bouncing in his one armed grip, and excitedly copying the movement wildly, winning a fond shake of the head from the man holding him.

Without anything else to do, Corin followed, with a glance back at the noise they were leaving behind, ducking through a side exit.  
He gave a light wave to Cara, another lazy salute returned before she spun back round, pulling her weapons back on the table in front of her.

Corin wondered where exactly the bandit was taking him now.


	10. Chapter 10

Making their way back through winding passage ways, Corin realised he actually seemed to recognise some of the rooms and small details as they walked past.  
A half broken post in a doorway, held up by a precariously placed bracket.  
A nail beaten into the rock with a piece of cloth stuck on it, apparently ripped from someone’s clothes.

Small details he’d glanced over at first, but had a sense of familiarity a second time through.

He heard the clanging up ahead, and felt the change in temperature as it rose.

He faltered.  
“I don’t want to disturb her again if she’s working,” he blurted out, immediately regretting it with a wince when the bandit spun on his heel, coming to a stop in one smooth movement, head tilting curiously.  
“You’ve been to see her already?”

“Uh,” Corin hesitated, not sure why he felt so vulnerable under the heavy gaze.  
“The uh, the other,” he didn’t want to say bandit, already feeling like the word was too harsh and misleading compared to the kindness he’d been shown, “other man found me, wondering around? Trying to find someone? And uh, brought me in to see, her.”  
He trailed off awkwardly, after his stilted explanation, inwardly cringing at his stuttering mess of a sentence. Surely, he was raised better than this, he should be able to string a kriffing sentence together.  
Corin was starting to feel like he should maybe be asking for people’s names.

“Paz.”  
He looked back up at the bandit.  
“What?”

“The other man, the big one, his name’s Paz. The woman who came in with us is Raga.”  
Corin flushed a bit, feeling like he was almost learning a secret as the man calmly told him the names of his friends’.  
“My name’s Din.”

With a small nod, lips quirking in thanks, Corin stood there a moment longer, uncertain what he should do next, hand rubbing against the back fo his neck.  
Another sigh, seemed to be the man’s- seemed to be Din’s, trademark.

“So, she tell you to do anything in particular?”  
“Uh,” Corin stumbled over his words for a moment, before forcing himself to stop and take a breath, rather than embarrass himself further.  
“Told me to go get food.”

The man- Din’s, head whipped up, eyes piercing under furrowed brows.  
“You haven’t eaten?”

“O-oh well, I mean, I got some, when- you know, when we were sitting, I ate a little-“ words fumbling in his mouth, Corin stuttered his way through yet another sentence, before clicking his mouth shut against the heavy stare levelled at him.

Yet another sigh. He really seemed to like those.

“Okay, come one, we can go back and get you another bowl-“  
“Oh, I don’t want to intrude, if you don’t-“  
Instead of answering, or even letting Corin finish, Din just walked past him, kid yawning in his arms, and Corin rushed to stay behind him.  
Only for Din to then slow down, and fall into step beside him.

They walked in silence for a few moments, before he heard Din take a deeper breath.

“You seem nothing like your father,” he said softly. It almost sounded like a question, and when he left the statement hanging in the air, Corin realised that it was an opening for him to start talking, or let it drop into silence.  
He ducked his head, trying to shake away the pleased smile that attempted to creep onto his face with a cough.

“Yeah, he uh-“ Corin hesitated, thinking over his words before blurting something out.  
It was his turn to sigh, head dropping a bit until he was gazing at the floor as they walked.

“I’m kind of considered the family disappointment,” he muttered.  
“Not the man father and Uncle Recon wanted and trained me to be.”

He didn’t want to turn his head, see if that stare was back on him, if that explained the prickling on the side of his face.  
Didn’t want to see, or even try and guess what kind of reaction his words created.

“A bit better,” the soft words came.  
This time, as his eyes met the dark gaze across from him, he couldn’t hide the small smile as it broke out.

Then the kid almost jumped from his father’s arms, head snapping up as he woke with a gasp.  
Corin couldn’t help the laugh as Din startled violently, almost dropping his son to the floor.

With a groan, eyes crinkling at the corner, Din looked up at him.  
“Don’t suppose there was any chance you could pretend no to have seen that?” He asked ruefully.   
With a grin, Corin shook his head, huffing out another laugh as the man groaned over dramatically, entire body tilting backwards in a small circle.

“Guess we’ll just have to try bribe you with some food then.”

The two started walking again, the kid once again slowly dropping off, head jerking up wildly every few seconds as he struggled in vain to stay awake.  
Din hoisted him up in his arms, rocking the kid slightly, humming under his breath.

Corin really wondered what he’d done to deserve the kindness these people were showing him, but quietly thanked the good luck that had sent him here.  
He tried his best not to think about the day it would likely end.

The room was louder when they entered, than it had been the first time. In fact, it was louder than anywhere Corin had heard in the location the entire time he’d been there. He actually winced a bit when they stepped through the entrance, right into the unfiltered sound.  
He supposed, everyone laughing and having a good time, that the volume was a good thing if it meant people were happy.

Din took them immediately back to the giant pot, this time only getting one bowl, which he promptly shoved into Corin’s hands.  
Focussing on his face, he realised he could see the man wincing and frowning every time a particularly harsh sound occurred, but Din still turned to go toward the table they’d sat at last time, now vacated.  
Maybe they weren’t allowed to eat elsewhere?

As they went to sit, and a particularly harsh clang somewhere had both him and the child in his arms jerking, Corin decided he didn’t care, he could take the blame, and grabbed his elbow, pulling him gently away from the table, and toward the door they’d escaped out of last time.

With no argument, the bandit allowed himself to be lead back out into the corridor.

“Sorry,” Corin murmured, flush spreading across his face, rubbing at his neck.  
“I, wasn’t sure we could eat elsewhere, and well..”  
He paused suddenly, pursing his lips. Din might not be glad he’d done it to try make him feel better.  
“I wasn’t handling the noise too well,” Corin finished lamely, hoping he’d buy the excuse.

Tension leaking out from muscles still under his hand, Din glanced up at hime with a quirked brow, as if he didn’t quite believe him.  
A small shake of his head, and he bobbed it down the hall.  
“We can find somewhere else then, if you’d like.”

A wry smile, and Corin followed him, happy to go wherever he would lead.


	11. Chapter 11

They ended up in a small alcove, hidden away somewhere, the loud left behind them, barely echoing through the rocky interior.  
The longer the sound went on, the more seemed to add to it, the crying, laughing and playing of children, conversations become voiced. Corin couldn’t help but be in awe and shock at the vast difference from merely an hour earlier.

He hid a smile behind his bowl, taking a long sip of the broth as he watched the father dramatically fall back from his sitting position, playing along with his son, who now stood proudly on Din’s chest, unaware of his father’s hands half raised off the floor behind him, to catch him in case he fell.  
It was the third time in as many minutes the man had allowed his son to take him down.

“What’re you hiding in here for troublemaker!”  
A booming voice startled Corin, and resulted in hissing as the leftover liquid sloshed around in his bowl, almost spilling over the side and onto his shirt. No need to make it too dirty.

He glanced up, lips skewed to the side, to see the big guy - Paz didn’t Din say?- flail backwards with a theatrical yelp as Din’s kid charged at him, jumping against his chest with a war cry.  
Corin pursed his lips to hide the grin threatening to stretch across his face, even as Paz laughed loudly, declaring the child victorious in their “duel”.

It seemed like everyone here was good with kids.

Shortly behind him, the smaller woman followed, eyes crinkling behind the cloth on her face.  
By this point Corin was sure they just lived with them on. He wondered if they made sure to get softer fabrics so the scarves wouldn’t irritate their skin.

He ducked his head with a flush when she caught his eye with a side glance. It was rude to stare.

He wondered what he missed, when he glanced up at Din, to find him glaring at the woman, while she cocked her head to the side, entire demeanour radiating smugness.

On the ground, Paz was still wrestling with a shrieking child, as it laughed and cried out at his flimsy defences against them.  
Watching the display, Corin couldn’t stop himself from smiling if he tried.

Finally, the woman stepped forward, pushing off the wall with her hip, and swooping down to pick the child up and swing him high into the air, before settling him onto her hip as he hiccuped through his giggles.  
“Buir, Buir!” He giggled, clapping his hand.

Corin wondered if that was a different language, or more nonsensical babbling.

Either way it was cute to watch him repeat the sound, clapping and waving his arms out toward his father, who wiggled his fingers back to him in return.

A part of Corin marvelled at the fact he was apparently trusted enough to witness this familial display between the three adults and children.  
Surely… surely not. Did they forget he was there?  
He remembered catching the woman’s eye, and chewed at his lip. What could he have possibly done to make them think he was trustworthy of this? Was it a ruse?

Looking at the group, the easy way they interacted, he quickly dismissed that idea. That wasn’t something that could be faked.

He made sure to wipe any traces of tenseness or frowning off his face when Din glanced over at him.  
If they were kind enough to let him get a glimpse of this, he wouldn’t ruin it by blurting out questions. What if they then decided he was being given too much freedom? What if he was taken back to that dark room, and no longer allowed to walk around?

He didn’t want to think about why the idea of being pushed away now that he’d seen this domesticity, been trusted with it, made his chest ache and fingers clench, bunching the materials of his pants.

This was too much good luck, Corin decided he wouldn’t be the one to point it out. He didn’t want it to go away.

He pushed away the small thought that settled into his brain. That he may as well, because eventually his father would pay for him back.  
He chose to ignore why that thought also tightened the vice around his lungs.

He came back to himself when a small weight rammed solidly into his shins. Moving on auto, his hands snapped forward to straighten the kid before they went sprawling back into the dirt.  
A bright grin was tossed his way, the kid jumping up against his hands, before sprinting back toward the still downed Paz with a loud squeal.

Corin quickly avoided the eyes of the three adults, focussing on the kid as he landed on Paz, picked himself up, and ran back toward him with a manic cackle, apparently finding the short distance the perfect running practice.

With that much happy energy, he felt his own lowered mood rise as he had to half lunge to the side to grab the kid when he leaped into the air toward him, majorly missing his mark.  
The wind knocked out of him when the kid’s weight flew into him, sending him solidly back against the wall with a thud.  
Corin didn’t even realise he was laughing until the kid shrieked again in happiness, jumping up on him, and sending even more air out when he landed straight onto Corin’s stomach.  
Breathless, eyes blurring from the lack of air, Corin still found himself smiling widely at the round face laughing up at him, before it once again pushed off and went sprinting back toward the trio.

Doubts and worries were pushed form his mind, as he watched Din sigh dramatically, before pushing up and beginning to chase after his son with a small exclamation of it being bed time.  
Before he even got close, the kid dove away from Paz’s attempt to catch him, sprinting back and throwing himself into Corin’s arms for safety, with a failed attempt to wiggle his way under Corin’s shirt.  
Laughing at the sensation, Corin wrangled him into merely sitting in his grip, facing outwards, and grinned up at Din as he came to a stop in front of them, hands on his hips, staring down at his son.  
Another giggle was his only answer, and the man sighed, shaking his head.

“Maybe Corin can help you if the kid doesn’t want to leave him.”  
The woman’s voice drew both their attention.  
Din turned back to him, a question in his eyes, and he shrugged.  
“Why not?”

He enjoyed being around the kid, and if it gave him a bit more time to spend with Din, all the better. Better than going back to that dark room at any rate.


	12. Chapter 12

The kid, surprisingly, settled down quickly as they walked, merely blinking sleepily at the world around him.  
Then someone had called for Din’s help, and in his momentary panic Corin had offered to hold the kid for him.

Now he was leaning against the wall, hoisting the kid further up onto his hip while being mindful to keep the movement soft, as little snores echoed right in his ear. With a small smile, he stroked the back of their head, hoping to ensure they slept right through to being put to bed. Though something told him he was surrounded by good luck, because Corin didn’t think the little one would be punished for waking up or causing a fuss before sleeping.  
He tried not to think too long on why that seemed to send a shot of hurt through his chest. A general panging of something that he didn’t think he wanted to identify. Not when this experience would probably be over soon.  
Better to just appreciate it while he was here.

A small mumbling against his shoulder, and a tiny hand reached up to grab a fistful of his shirt.  
Crooning softly, he swayed his weight side to side, hand still stroking the back of the small head, hoping to get the child to settle.

He really hoped they hadn’t actually named him womp rat. That was not a proper name for a kid.

Corin was embracing the good luck that had apparently decided it was time for everyone to quiet. The loud, rambunctious nature that had filled the corridors, echoing all the way to the small alcove where he’d finished eating, had died down to nothing.  
Considering how highly they all seemed to treat their little ones, he wouldn’t be surprised if it had quieted solely for parents to get their children to bed peacefully.

It seemed like something this community would do to help each other.

Another pang that Corin dutifully ignored. No time for that. Not now.

A soft touch against his elbow had his head swinging back up from where it had settled against the sleeping kids shoulder.  
He blinked blearily into Din’s eyes.

When had he dozed off?   
Corin then also realised he was on the floor, and with a small frown, decided he vaguely remembered thinking he would sit down and rest his legs.

He shook his head, dispelling a yawn right as it tried to break free, blinking slowly as his brain rebooted itself.  
A huff brought his attention back to the man crouched in front of him. He watched as Din pushed himself up off the floor, and held a hand out toward him.  
“Need some help?”

Help. Help with what?  
A sigh into his neck.  
Right, child.

Another frown, another head shake, and he adjusted his grip on the kid so he’d be able to hold them up in one arm, then reached forward for the man’s outstretched hand with his other.  
He stumbled against the light headedness being pulled upwards so quickly gave him, right into the firm chest in front of him, a second hand coming up to steady him, gripping onto his shoulder easily.

With a cough, ignoring the heat in his face, and focussing instead on readjusting his grip on the kid, Corin pulled away from the man before he did something stupid and crossed a boundary by staying there.

“Uh, this way.”  
Din coughed again, clearing his throat, before striding away after another moments’ hesitation.  
Corin cursed his luck silently, eyes slipping shut into a grimace for a split second before he followed.

He was lead back through the winding passageways. A small part of him wondered if he’d get a chance to learn them before he’d have to leave.  
Even a disappointment like himself, his family would prefer to keep close than completely abandon. No doubt they expected him to have information for them when they got him back.  
Rather than consider why that thought made him ill, he grit his teeth, and drove his attention outward and away from his thoughts, chasing after the man in front.

They were heading into the darker tunnels.

Corin faltered slightly when he realised this, before setting his jaw, and forcing his feet to move. There was absolutely no reason for him to be so against the darkness. None.  
Even if the shifting shadows made him flinch, and he thought he could hear echoed screams and crying as he passed darkened doorways into pitch black rooms.

His next breath in was shaky and uneven. He forced himself to hold it a moment, before slowly releasing it. Slow, deep breaths. No reason for him to panic. No reason.

The tunnels got darker, the walls seeming to shrink around him as the shadows pressed down.

When did he stop walking?  
He flinched violently at a touch to his shoulder, arms wrapped around…  
What was he holding?  
Before he got a chance to look, a hand appeared in his vision.

He stumbled back a steps against a rough surface.  
Rough. Uneven.  
Not wooden or cold.

A hand was supporting him, holding him up against the wall by his shoulder. He couldn’t quite focus on the face in front of him.  
Brown eyes. Brown eyes not blue. They were brown.  
The kid cooed in his arms, and he felt a stinging behind his eyes. His limbs were shaking, joints weak, knees barely holding him upright.  
Corin gasped out a breath, ears finally registering the soft murmuring as Din continued to talk quietly.  
One hand pulled away from the sleeping kid in his arms, reaching up to grasp desperately onto the fabric around Din’s elbow.  
Another hand came up to grasp around his neck, thumb sweeping small circles around the junction of his jawline.

Another deep, gasping breath.  
His focus turned to his hand, gripping tightly into Din’s sleeve. He didn’t want to look up. Didn’t want to see what was going to be in those dark eyes.

The dumb stopped circling, and ducked under his jaw, pushing slightly, until Corin’s face lifted up, and blue eyes met brown.

Trying, and failing, to get out an apology, he felt his face crumple slightly at the concern he could see.  
He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone with such expressive eyes before. Corin guessed when most of your face was hidden, body language and eyes were your main tells.

His heart beat slowed, no longer thundering in his ears.  
Din was no longer murmuring, silent in front of him.

His gaze slipped, unable to hold against the kindness in this eyes.

Deep breaths. Deeps, slow breaths. In, and out. Controlled and slow.

There was no pushing form the man in front of him, as he slowly regained control. No urging or commands to hurry up. No admonishments. Nothing.  
Just patience. Corin wasn’t sure what to do with it, so he focussed on getting himself together as quickly as he could.  
In, and out.

Finally, he felt himself calm. Felt himself gather control over his fear until he could finally manage it, pushing it away and out of sight.

“What happened?”  
Corin wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Wasn’t sure how he was supposed to.  
Then he remembered, back in front of the woman at the forge. They’d taken his honesty, they’d accepted it. Would that still count here?

He swallowed, lips twisting as he weighed his options. They were very limited, and he found himself wanting to tell the truth anyway.  
“Fear,” he sighed, head bowing down slightly.   
“I-“ he sighed again.  
“I don’t like the dark, it-“ he cut himself off. No use complaining.

A knock against his head, then he found himself forehead to forehead with Din as he rested his against him.  
Corin’s eyes fluttered closed as they held there a moment.

Slowly, as if reluctant, he felt Din pull away, and their eyes met once more.  
“Come on, we can go a different route or get a lantern or something.”

Accepting with a small smile, grateful for the man’s kindness, Corin found himself taking comfort in the hand that remained gripped onto his elbow, sliding down from his shoulder, as Din led him back toward the light.

They reached the first lantern, still full of oil, and Din hesitated before grabbing it, looking back at Corin.  
“We can go a different route, if you’d prefer?”

He would, Corin relapsed with surprise. He would take him a different way, with more light, to get the kid to his room, if it made Corin more comfortable.  
He shook his head with a glance at the lantern, and the amount of light it was producing.

“Lantern’s fine.”

Another small hesitation, and he saw Din’s fingers rubbing together, as if he was considering whether or not to believe Corin.  
He finally pulled the lantern down off the wall, and Corin was a bit surprised in himself to realise that he’d been speaking the whole truth.  
Somehow, even with only one lantern in the darker route, it didn’t seem so bad with the small weight in his arms, and the hand back on his elbow.

“It’s not too far,” Din said, and they started walking, making their way back down into the dark. This time, the light came with them, and Corin found himself much more capable of shutting down the memories that threatened to leak through.


	13. Chapter 13

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting the kid’s room to be like.

It wasn’t this.

He stared at the gathering of tangled limbs on a giant nest of pillows and blankets that Din approached, dimming the lantern as he did so, kneeling beside and tugging at one of the looser blankets at the groaning complaints of other children as they whined against the lost warmth.  
Bodies shifted, rearranging to hide under other blankets or cuddle with others for their warmth, as Din looked back at him, setting the lantern down on the ground beside him.

With only a small hesitation, Corin cautiously approached, thumb brushing against the soft cloth on the kids back in his arms, head a heavy weight on his shoulder.  
He thought he could feel a damp patch where they must be drooling a bit.

Clumsy, unused to the additional weight on his front, Corin wobbled his way down to kneel beside Din, who lifted the blanket.  
Licking his lips, eyes darting between the blanket and Din, Corin slowly leaned forward, leg shifting forward to maintain balance, and slowly lower the kid down on the comfort below.  
No reaction, so he guessed he read that correctly.

Carefully, one hand behind his head to ensure it didn’t drop and smack down, even against the padding below it, Corin tucked all the little limbs in, and without waking, the kid rolled onto his side, small hands reaching out to clutch onto a nearby fabric, that this time just so happened to belong to the back of another child’s shirt.  
Din dropped the wooly blanket down on top of them, tugging it around to cover the kid’s full body and his limbs in their entirety.

Corin couldn’t help the soft smile on his face when a hand stopped to rub gently at the kid’s shoulder, before ruffling lightly at the top of his head.  
Kid was lucky to have someone that loving for a father.

He wondered if his mother was here. So far, Corin hadn’t seen or heard any sign of her. He guessed it wasn’t that surprising. These days, most family’s seemed to be missing one part or another.  
He wiped the frown off his face, pushing those thoughts away. It wasn’t his place to wonder. Wasn’t his place to be concerned.

He wasn’t friends with these people.  
He really needed to remember that.

Din tilted his head away, and pushing up off the ground, lead the way back out of the room. Through the doorway, the lantern brightened once more to its full capabilities.

“Come on, I can take you to your room now, if you want?”

Corin just wished it wasn’t so hard to remind himself when he could hear, and see the hesitation in the question. Could see the man considering him, perfectly happy to wait and see what Corin wanted, and to go along with it.  
He thought back to the dark of the room, and found his decision easy to make. If he could only get the words out. Be honest.  
Honesty was good here.

“Um, well,” he stammered, hand rubbing at his neck once more, eyes darting to the ground.  
Just be honest.   
“Is it,” his eyes flicked up, meeting the dark brown through the light between them.  
“Is it okay if we stay out, for a bit longer?”

He forced his face to remain neutral, but he could still feel as his eyebrows scrunched together, mouth tucking in at the corner.

“Sure.”  
He couldn’t stop himself from perking up, before heat erupted over his face. He wasn’t a child, he didn’t need to get so excited over such a small thing.  
Still, he found he took comfort in the warmth that had filled his chest, brightening the further the day had gone.

He tucked it in, and held it close to his heart, wishing with all his might on good luck to let this last, just a moment longer.

He couldn’t stop the smile breaking its enclosure, and creeping onto his face slowly when Din turned to keep walking, before looking back, waiting for him to catch up so they could walk side by side. Like equals.  
Their shoulders brushed together as they walked, the silence comforting even as Corin questioned if it should feel that way.  
Another brush, another happy hum through his body at the contact, and he decided it didn’t matter.  
It might be selfish, but he was happy to take all the good luck he could get.

They ended up back at the alcove, once again occupied by Paz and Raga.  
Following Din’s lead, Corin walked in after him, and ended up taking a seat on one of the blankets when Din stopped and sunk down, legs crossing in front of him.  
Unsure if he should be so close, but not wanting to risk being ruse and backing away to sit further, Corin ended up on the same blanket, their knees’ almost touching.

Raga gave a lazy wave from where she was sat, relaxed and spread out on her own blanket, arms and head almost in full contact with Paz behind her.

There was no movement from the bigger man, and with a squint, Corin relapsed why.  
He turned his face away to hide the grin that quickly rolled out at the closed eyes, head resting forward onto his chest, hands loose by his side and on his stomach.  
After her wave, Raga’s head dropped back onto his stomach, and aside form a small flicker over his eyes, there was no other movement from the man.  
Corin could only wonder at the trust being shown to him, for them to be so calm and relaxed in his presence. For them to not wake him up at his presence.

He shook his head, dislodging that train of thought before he could think about it too much, and focussed back in on the other two who were making small hand movements toward each other.  
He realised they were similar to ones he had seen earlier that day, that everyone seemed to use to converse. Here using it to keep the conversation silent so as not to wake Paz, if he had to guess.  
He wondered what it would be like, learning that hidden language, being trusted with it.

He wondered if there was a chance they would teach him.

Then Raga turned to him, hand flicking his way in a quick and deceptively simple looking movement, before her entire body seemed to hesitate at the mistake, realising that she was sending the movement to an outsider.  
Instead of waking Paz up though, she half rolled to her side, hand reaching into a pouch, shuffling around before pulling something free.  
A piece of paper and charcoal.

She scratched something on, and threw it over to him.

“How’s the troublemaker been treating you?”

Emotional at the inclusion into the conversation, Corin took a deep breath, before slowly writing out a reply, hoping his writing wasn’t too bad for her.  
His father always said it looked like a child’s. He’d been neglecting his practice eon it lately, so it was even worse than usual.

“Good, we put the kid down to sleep.”

Beside him, Din stretched out, making a small mound of pillows to rest against, before laying back against it.

The paper landed next to him again.  
“That’s good. Got some food in you?”

With a small smile, he wrote out his answer, throwing the paper back at her.

He startled at something soft being thrown into his lap, and looked down at the pillows now there, uncomprehending.  
Beside him, Din just pat the ground, before settling back down, one arm reaching up to tuck in behind his head as he gestured back at Raga with one hand, the picture of comfort. 

Taking the hint, Corin put the pillows behind him, making his own pile to lean back against.  
He didn’t realise how close he’d made it to Din’s until he laid back, and had to cock a leg up to stop it falling straight across Din’s shin.  
Before he could get up to fix it, a lazy kick sent his leg sprawling onto the ground, and Din threw the offending limb over the top of it.  
Raga threw the paper back to him, it landed well within reach of his hand without needing to sit up.

He shook his head when he felt his eyes slip shut, unfocussed don the words in front of him.  
Before he could have another try at reading them, the paper was snatched form his hands.

He turned to glare at Din as he seemed to smirk at him. He couldn’t be sure, but they seemed like happy crinkles around the eyes.  
His crows feet were nice. He must smile a lot.  
Corin wondered what it would feel like to be safe and happy enough to smile that much everyday.

His eyes slipped shut, hands falling off his stomach against the soft blanket beneath him, just in time for his brain to not truly register the sharp breath from beside him.

There was something soft and heavy on him now. That was nice.  
It wasn’t as bright either.  
Must be sleep time.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while to get this ch out, life decided to come in and muck around for a bit so took a break doing some other stuff. Hope its worth the wait.

Corin drifted to awareness slowly, the haze of sleep falling slowly to the wayside. He didn’t want to wake up, wanted to be able to keep sleeping, keep basking in the warmth and comfort that surrounded him.  
Distantly he was aware of light murmurs, before he felt a hand brush away the hair that had fallen on his face.  
His eyes fluttered open, barely making sense of the blurred images that slipped through the small cracks between his eyelids before he felt himself slip away.

He really didn’t want to move.

The next time he woke, was to the confusion of a small bundle of heat tucked between his arm and chest.  
With a small frown, eyes blinking open slowly, he gazed around the dim room before a small shuffle brought his attention down.  
He couldn’t help the smile as he stared down at the sleeping face of the kid, half a hand stuck in his mouth, as he silently snored away, drooling a river onto Corin’s shoulder.

His chest ached at the sight, and he looked away sharply when he felt a sharp prickle behind his eyes.  
A small noise of complaint had him freezing, until he kid settled down again.

He turned to look to his other side, only to come face to face with a sleeping Din, head lolling forward onto his chest, entire body tilted close to Corin’s.  
Close enough he could almost feel the heat of his shoulder through the layers of clothes and blankets' separating them.

An attempt to move his legs let him know that Din’s own were still crossed over the top of them, loose and relaxed.

Corin swallowed sharply around a lump in his throat.  
It got harder when he realised across the room, Raga and Paz were completely unconscious as well.  
What did he do to deserve this kind of trust?

The kid shifted in his arms, thankfully drawing him out of his thoughts before they could roll too far down that track.  
He couldn’t help but smile softly, his free hand brushing lightly against the kids forehead, easing the small crinkles that had gathered there. They smoothed out, tension leeching from him. His mouth babbled silently against the damp patch on Corin’s shirt. He really was the most precious little thing.

A small shift of something on his shin, and Corin turned his head to see Din staring at him, eyes soft as he watched their interaction.  
Well, as much of it as he could see in the low lighting. 

With a sigh, Din tilted his head around, rolling his shoulders, and Corin winced in sympathy at the mild cracks he could hear at the movements.  
In the crook of his arm, the kid shifted again, then with a small squeak, stretched out like lazy cat, jaw splitting wide open before he pouted, hand coming up to rub at his eyes tiredly as he continued to shift and push against Corin’s chest.  
Corin could almost cry, at what he wasn’t sure. It could be for the trust this family was giving him, for the kindest he’d been showed. It could be for so much that had happened in the last day.

With a small jolt of shock, he realised, staring down at bleary, big brown eyes, that he didn’t want to leave, and go back to his cold, impersonal house.  
Did n’t want to go back to his room, with its lock on the outside, and boarded up window.  
Didn’t want to go back to being the disappointment, now that he knew someone could look at him, and think him a better man.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back, and he realised his eyes had blurred, a sharp sting in them as he desperately tried to blink the starting film of tears away.  
Before he could turn his face to try wipe them away with his sleeve, carefully, so as not to jostle the kid, he was halted by a hand on the back of his neck.  
He didn’t want to look up, scared of what he’d see, scared of what he might’n’t, and all too clearly hearing the mocking, remembering the beating, his father had given him the last time he’d cried. No place for tears in the desert. It was necessary to push through them and deal with it in private. Too much to do to waste being upset.

A thumb brushed through the hair curling around the nape of his neck, and a sigh sounded beside him. He winced, preparing for Din’s reaction.  
“Corin,” his voice was soft, but even soft it still startled him into a small flinch.  
The finger on his neck flexed, as if Din was debating drawing them away.

Another sigh, and the hand slid down to his shoulder. Not gone, but not as intimate. The skin tingled now that warmth had left to elsewhere.

Din didn’t say anything else, thumb rubbing softly against the material of his shirt. With the weight and heat there, Corin found himself able to ignore the thoughts running through his head. He started with a jolt when he realise dish head was tipping toward Din, toward more of that warmth, and contact.

The kid stretched out, pushing back into his chest again, something sharp digging in hard enough that Corin hissed out a breath, leaning his torso away from the pain.  
His shoulder knocked into Din’s chest, and he stilled, staring down at the kid

He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. No one here was anything like he’d expected, or that he knew.  
He didn’t know what to do.

“You don’t have to do anything Corin,” Din murmured, hand still clasped to the muscle of his shoulder.  
He hadn’t realised he’d said that aloud.

With a grumble, the kid started to push his way back against Corin once more, this time pushing himself up over the top of his chest, to flop out with a frown, eyes blinking up to glare at the two of them.  
With a huff, Din spoke again.  
“We’d better get moving before he wakes up enough to kick a fuss about food.”

With a deep, steadying breath, Corin nodded, hand coming up to stroke the curls falling away from the kids face. Another deep breath. Didn’t have to do anything.  
He remembered the previous day. Remembered how honesty seemed the best policy.

Didn’t have to do anything. Just be honest.  
Better man.

Another nod, another breath.  
“Yeah, I could probably use something to eat too.”

As he slowly pushed himself up, Din taking a hold of his son, and lifting him up to carry him, Corin could’ve sworn he saw Din’s eyes crinkle like he was smiling, and it felt like good luck.


	15. Chapter 15

The eating area had few people in it. Corin wondered if it might be because of an early hour, or if it meant it was time other people were doing work, or if there were different eating schedules… It was interesting to think about, he decided, but not something he’d likely get an answer for.  
A sharp whistle caught his attention, and he followed Din toward a table once again occupied by the woman from the day before.  
Cara? Corin hoped he remembered correctly. He was taught better than to forget people’s names so quickly, especially when he’d only learnt the names of a select few.

She wasn’t nearly as intense this time around. Clearly whatever she had thought of him, whatever she had sized him up as being, met a standard.   
He couldn’t quite ignore the small whisper that said he didn’t deserve that kind of camaraderie. Not when he knew he’d be taken back by his father soon, after all, even a disappointment such as himself was better worth in his father’s use than kept captive by a group of bandits.  
No matter how much it was already starting to feel like more freedom than he’d ever tasted before.

Din stood up, gone to get food after the child, who had still been slowly waking, had started with an excited squeal, darting away.  
Before Corin could stand to follow, Cara reached forward to grab at his forearm, and smirked up at Din.  
“I can take care of your boy for you while you go handle that then.”

There was a moments hesitation, and without movement, even without much expression shown, due to an incredible poker face, and Din’s face covering, it still felt like a thousand things were said, before he left, and Corin was left alone at the table, completely at the whims of the woman across from him.  
He chose to watch Din as he strode away quickly, in an attempt to catch up with his son, rather than turn back around to see what face Cara might be making.

After a few seconds, the prickle of being watched on the back of his neck finally prompted his return to facing the table.  
She wasn’t smirking anymore, but neither was she glaring. Instead, she had a thoughtful expression on her face, a small not-from line etched between her brows as she considered him with a heavy gaze.

“So, Valentis huh?”  
Corin’s blood drained cold at the flint of steel he could see in her gaze.

“Yes.”  
He forced the word out, mouth feeling numb, muscles tensing. He found himself wondering what his father had done against her, personally.

She let out a heavy, slow breath. Not quite a sigh, but not far off. She still regarded him with that same expression, head dropping into a slight tilt, her unbraided hair falling away from her face.  
Her hand was no longer on his arm, curled up as both of the limbs din front of her, holding her weight easily.  
He forced himself to meet her gaze, rather than allow his eyes to drop.

“You planning on following his work?”

He couldn’t quite hide the flinch, just barely keeping it a small twitch rather than a full body movement, a small twist of the lips, pinching of his eyes. Still, she saw, and nodded, drawing back with another low breath.  
“Good.”  
Her gaze finally dropped from his, and left him more confused as she focussed back on the bread now in her hands, being torn into pieces and popped into her mouth.

Before he could so much as open his mouth to ask what had just happened, what she’d apparently decided, a booming voice echoed loudly through the room, much to her amusement if the smirk she directed toward the doorway was any indication.  
“TROUBLEMAKER!”  
Against the drop of silence the volume shocked everyone into, Corin could almost swear he heard someone groan and start to mutter behind him, before noise started back up again, and Din appeared beside him, sitting down with two plates of food.

Attention still fixed to someone, and Corin could guess who, behind him, Cara gave a cheeky salute, hand still holding bread and mouth still chewing on her last bite.

The barest hint of a shadow was all the warning Corin got before Paz’s heaping mass dropped onto the bench beside him, sending the plank wobbling beneath him.  
Raga was quick to join, also carrying two plates, one of which she shoved with an eye roll in front of Paz before settling in beside Cara.  
“Forgot your plate you big oaf.”  
With a chuckling response, the pair began bickering, Cara darting in with commentary every other sentence.  
Corin was still stuck wondering what exactly, had happened between him and Cara before they all showed up, but not comfortable asking exactly what she’d found good about his reaction, while the others were there.

A plate of food was slid in front of him, and he found himself distracted by the kid squealing in a piercingly high volume before crawling over his fathers lap - when had Din sat down?- and stumbling into Corin’s side.  
The giggling laugh that erupted out of his small frame was enough to send a small smile onto his face.

He glanced up, catching Din’s eye, and was struck with an acceptance at the warm compassion there, directed at not just his son, but also seemingly at him too.  
He’d realised the day before, that he hadn’t wanted to leave. So why did he have to? What real reason was there to go?  
He could stay, he thought, looking back down with a smile, at the kid now burrowing slightly painfully into his side.  
Could hide, not return home, stay here around this warmth, acceptance and freedom.

Then his smile faltered.  
He was here as a ransom. Nothing more.

If his father paid it, and he wasn’t given back…..  
He really didn’t want to even try finish that thought.

He slide the smile back on when Din nudged him, brows furrowed over concerned eyes.  
Yeah, he couldn’t put these people at risk for such selfish reason. Couldn’t bear to bring that much bad luck on them just for himself.  
If his father paid the ransom, he’d have to go back home. He’d just have to try enjoy what time he did have away, and here. No point wishing for too much luck. Being greedy only ever brought bad luck upon him.

He’d just have to try soak up everything he could, so he’d have some good memories to cling to when he did have to go back.


End file.
